


swarm

by peterspajamas



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel Makes the First Move (Supernatural), Domestic Fluff, Domesticity, First Kiss, Laundry, M/M, Matchmaker Sam Winchester, Sam Winchester is So Done, Sibling Rivalry, Tumblr Prompt, he's a cutie, housewife dean winchester, in a joking way, in a silly way, it suits them, lol, yay!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:08:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27906505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peterspajamas/pseuds/peterspajamas
Summary: Dean does a deep clean once a month. And not only is this the first one in the bunker, this is the first one with Cas, in the bunker.Apparently, Cas does not know how to do laundry.APPARENTLY, Sam does not know how to do laundry, either, the useless sasquatch, but he does know how to get two useless gays together.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 19
Kudos: 124





	swarm

**Author's Note:**

> ik it's bad :(

Dean had the same routine. Every month.

Since he was, like, ten or something. Sam hated it, his dad had wanted no part of it, but Dean stuck true to it. What the hell else would he do? What, would he live like a farm animal? No. It hadn’t been much when they were young, given that they lived out of a car, but once they established a home base, Sam got more insufferable about the ritual. Dean, stubbornly, refused to let up. 

He woke up, last Saturday of the month, and stretched. The bed bounced as his feet slapped onto the floor. He allowed for a momentary wince- _cold_ \- before marching into Sammy’s bedroom. “Cleaning day, Sammy, rise and shine!” 

Sam stared at him from under his covers, slowly shaking his head. “I am not doing this again.” Dean shook his head. 

“Not a choice, Sam, and there’s no chance I’m letting you off. Come on! This is a tradition by now.” He smiled charmingly, like a scamp, he’d been told, and bounced onto the bed next to his brother. 

“Stupid tradition.” Sam’s voice was level, but it was suspiciously close to a Bobby-like grumble. 

“Stupid, my ass, I’m the only reason anything is clean around here.” Once a month, they had their required deep clean. It used to be a car wash, carrying the old wrappers and trash outta the Impala, and wiping down the seats. 

Then over the years, it turned into this. Sam loathed helping clean the bunker, and Dean sure as hell didn’t like it, but he was not letting the place turn into a bachelor pad. “I do the dishes. I clean _my_ room. I don’t see why-”

“Ah ah ah! I don’t want to hear it! Where’s Cas?” 

He turned around and yelped slightly, when he came nose to nose with the angel. “What is it, Dean?” He slowly cocked his head. Dean cocked his head back. “What are we doing today?” Cas asked. 

“Cleaning!” Dean said, a second too short. Shit, did he sound out of breath? He was getting old. “Sam, you can start vacuuming, I’ll get the duster, and you can do the laundry. Capiche?” 

Slowly, Cas nodded. “I can do the laundry.” 

The worst thing about the bunker was that it was missing a washing machine. Dean felt pissy every time he thought about it; he had been meaning to buy one and install it but they’d been busy as hell and he forgot every five hours. Poor Cas was going to have to wash it by hand. 

Cleaning the bunker was slow going. Dean didn’t hate cleaning. Maybe that was why it didn’t drag at him the way stupid shit like research did, or maybe it was just a couple decades of doing this. Either way, Dean found a whole lot of satisfaction in wiping the dust away. The vacuum hummed through the rooms around him. He got the trim, the mantle, the table, the shelves, the top of that one lamp. 

“Can’t Cas just like, poof it away?” Sam asked. Dean paused; considered. He wasn’t too clear on what angel powers entailed. If Cas could travel through time, he could probably suck all the dirt out of their bunker, right? 

“Shit, why didn’t I think about that?” 

“Are you serious?” Sam asked hopefully, following him to the laundry room. “Dean, I mean this in the best way, but I would cry if we didn’t have to do this anymore.” 

Dean shoved him, snorting. “We still have to wash the car together, she’s delicate.” Sam made a bitch face, glaring in the direction of the garage. 

“Hey, hey hey! What’s that look for? Baby doesn’t deserve that! She’s an innocent!” 

“Dean, her windows have been blown out more times than I can count. You have literally rebuilt her from the ground up. And she’s _delicate_? Are you kidding me?” That was right. But it was the principle of it. 

He said as much. “Sammy, it’s the principle of it. Like your hair, Bobby used to cut it with his kitchen scissors, right?” Sam scowled at the thought of it. “Now, you spend a fortune on your girly little products-” 

“A hundred dollars is not a fortune, Dean-” 

Dean gave him a flat look. “You could buy, like a hundred beers for that much. You spend it on your _hair_. But you know, it wasn’t taken care of as good in the past, but now, it’s living the life. That’s Baby.” 

Sam sighed his petulant baby brother sigh and Dean chuckled as they finally reached the laundry room. Castiel was slaving away, trying to scrub a stain out of Dean’s favorite pair of pants. It looked like chocolate. The two of them stood there, staring blankly, before Cas interrupted them with a flat, silent scowl. 

“Are you two just going to stand there?” he asked. 

Dean shrugged, taking a seat on the corner of the sink. “Your job, not mine.” Cas rolled his eyes, reaching for the scrub brush on the side of the sink. 

“It’s nice to have someone else doing this one for a change,” Sam muttered, sprawling out on the chair. Cas shook his head. 

“If I had not _seen_ your work ethic, I would deem the two of you the laziest humans on Earth,” he murmured. Dean smiled. Classic. A bit of water soaked the front of Cas’s shirt, in a line down to his pants. 

“Hey, what are you doing?” Dean said, suddenly snatching the scrub brush from his hands. “You’re going to ruin them!”

Sam snorted. “Who’s the picky one now, Dean!” 

“Cas, have you been scrubbing _all_ our clothes like that?” 

Castiel studied him. “Yes, Dean, I have been washing all the clothes like this. I have observed Sam do it enough times to know the correct process.” 

Dean shook his head, pointing at Sam. “You ass, you are so on my shit list. That isn’t the right way to do it, Cas. You’ll get the stains out, but you’re going to ruin my jeans. Is that why they’re so threadbare!” He turned back to Sam, indignant. “Never mind. Watch closely.” 

He hip-butted Cas out of the way; his angel scrunched his nose up slightly, he didn’t know the movement. With his precious jeans in hand, he submerged it in water, plunging his hands into the slightly soapy and warm water in the sink. “Don’t listen to him, Cas, you were doing it right!” Sam egged on. 

Dean ignored him. “So you soak it, that’ll- it’ll, like, loosen the stain, right, and if it’s greasy it’ll get real easy to wash away, and _then_ you get the detergent and maybe kinda squeeze it through a little- like this- and soak.” Expectantly, he stared at Cas. 

His angel had this weird, kind of indulgent smile on his face. Dean raised his eyebrows. “And if it’s stained?” 

“Just put the stain remover on it beforehand. Easy. Sam is wrong.” Obviously, Sam was almost always wrong, but especially this time. 

“Just watch how he washes his _car_ , he is obviously just a mother hen,” Sam retorted. Dean flushed. He wouldn’t mind Cas taking in how a _real_ car was washed, but Dean was known to act foolish when it was just him and his car. 

When Dad gave it to him on his 18th, he’d rounded Sammy up and had him record a sonnet. Plus there was the matter of the car wash shorts, which had been the subject of much mocking over the years. “No, finish washing this stuff. Just soak it, don’t- _scrub_.” 

Cas nodded. “I think I understand. Show me one more time?” 

Dean sighed, scrutinizing him closely. It _could_ be a ploy to get him to do more work. Maybe. “Fine.” Cas scooted up close behind him, watching Dean’s hands move through the water. Dean could feel the heat of Cas’s chest on his back. A lock of hair brushed against his cheek. “See?” 

“Yes, I do see.”

“For fuck’s sake.” Dean turned around, quizzical. Sam looked so fed up. “Jesus- this is _ridiculous_. Guys. Dean.” Dean scratched his chin, completely bemused. 

“Sam?” 

“Yes, Sam, what is it?” Cas echoed, right behind him. Dean jerked, turning to face him. Was the personal space thing really so hard to grasp? It wasn’t like he minded it, it was always nice to have the one guy that didn’t understand everything that you could manipulate into getting you some tea and a nice long hug when you were sick, but other people. Other people might mind. 

A vein seemed to strain on Sam’s forehead. “Excuse me, I just have to-” He walked forward, pushing Dean’s head towards Cas’s. 

“Hey-” 

“Kiss. Please kiss.” Dean blinked. Cas was awfully close, a look of intense concentration on his face. Hell yeah, Dean would love to have that concentration on- 

Cas kissed him, on the lips, friends _didn’t do that_ , maybe friends _thought_ about doing it. Would Dean have to explain human functions to him again? That would break Dean. Because he wanted this, wanted it, wanted it, wanted it, he couldn’t be complicit, fuck, in his own heartbreak. Cas wrapped a hand around Dean’s wrist, setting it on his shoulder. 

And they kept kissing. Motherfucker. Dean couldn’t pull away. There was a hand resting on his lower back. Another man’s lips on his. “Dean.” 

“Cas?” He sounded a little weird, hopefully no one would notice. 

“I like you, Dean. A lot.” 

“Well, _gee_ , Cas, you sure know how to make a lady feel special. You know friends don’t kiss friends, right? Right?” Cas nodded. 

“I am perfectly aware that kisses are shared between romantic partners, Dean.” His hands got a little clammy. 

“Oh.” 

“I would like. To do it again?” His voice hovered at the end, unsure. 

Dean nodded quickly. “Yup, yeah, uh, that sounds good to me, man.” Cas smiled and his eyes turned squinty, like he was looking at the sun and not Dean. One of his fingers, still slightly wrinkled from the soap and water, stroked down Dean’s face. 

“I agree. Sam, you finish doing the laundry.” 

“How _I_ taught you to!” 

“How Dean taught you,” Cas agreed.

Sam looked gobsmacked and a little offended. “Wait- Cas, can’t you just clean it with your grace?” 

He looked between them. “Is this not tradition? Human tradition?” 

Sam quickly shook his head. “Not one I like, just. Snap your fingers, yeah?” Cas indulged him. _Awesome_. Dean gave Sam a thumbs up, he was addled by kisses, he wouldn’t have remembered that. 

‘Dean. Can we go now?” Dean grinned fiercely, mashing their lips together, again, like he wanted to continue doing for. At least the next 12 hours. 

**Author's Note:**

> comment if you liked?


End file.
